The Bar
by feekguitar21
Summary: No summary. You'll just have to read it. R&R!


**Heya! Okay, so, I've posted this story before, but I decided to post it again for multiple reasons. First off, incase anyone else wants to read it who didn't the first time. Second off, I'm hoping some more people will read it. Third off, I've made a sequel, and I thought I might as well remind people which story the sequel belongs to. So! All of that said and done with: Here is my story "The Bar". Enjoy!!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Instant Star  
Rating: PG-13 drugs, alcohol, and some sexual content**

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It was just another night at work. Serving drinks to old guys that are already drunk--not my first choice, but it pays the bills. I stand behind the counter of the newly infamous bar, labeled "Insecure" with a backwards R. My tight tank sticks even more to my pale skin as beer from the faucet leaks down my front. The little bit of skin between the black shirt and low ride blue jeans became cool as the brown liquid ran down it. Placing the drink on the counter, I take the $5 bill that was placed there moments earlier. He's a regular customer. His wife recently served him. His kids were taken during the whole fiascle. I feel kind of sorry for the guy. I mean who wouldn't drink away their problems when they're that distressing?

I turn around to face the other bartender. His name is Mike. Great guy. Late thirties. He's like the dad I never had, except he's too young to be my dad. Ha. But it's all good. He still treats me like a daughter. Though, sometimes, he encourages wrong behavior. There are nights when, after the bar closes, we sit in the back, discuss our problems, and drink them all away. It's not like I mind. I've grown accustomed to feeling the burning liquid flow down my throat, as it had my shirt so many times before.

Mike gives me a small smile, as he takes the bill away from my out stretched hand. I smile back, and return my attention to the customers on the stools. "How can I help you?" There are about four girls sitting and laughing while looking over at a bunch of drunken college guys. To tell you the truth, these girls looked like they should be getting ready for an Algebra 2 test. More than likely, they should be. "Four shots, tequila. And uh, buy those guys a round of drinks." I'm assuming, the leader says, referring to the college drunks. "I.D." What? It's normal to ask. Hell, it's the law! "Excuse me?" And they're caught. "Sorry. I don't serve until I see some I.D." The girls give me skeptical looks, and dig in their purses. Each of them pulls out a card, and set it on the counter. I review each one. "You guys think you're pretty damn sneaky, eh? Well, just so you know, I was your age too. Not get the hell out." They look like they've just been caught with fake I.D. Oh wait, they had! After watching the wanna-be Paris Hilton's, I go to the back room.

Here's where I come to think. It's got a large leather sofa, and a coffee table, with a deck of cards, and coasters. I set my butt down, and stare at my hands. Thoughts of my past flood back, like they usually do when I sit here. My mom dying, my dad leaving, and my sister not giving a shit, and moving to Spain. Ah. It all started when my mom got sick. It was cancer. Everyone dealt with it in his or her own way. My dad drank. My sister shopped and traveled. Me -- I stayed home. Right by my mom's side. We would talk for hours. We became so close. I was heartbroken when I heard she passed. But I dealt with it. It still hurt at times, but I know she's in a better place.

About a month and a half after my mother's death, my so-called father left my sister, Sadie, and me. We heard from him once since then. Just long enough to find out that he never wanted kids. He just did it for Victoria (my mom) and since she was gone...so was he. I'm pretty sure that a few weeks later, he married some skank, and had 3 children with her. Oh well. That's what I get for back mouthing one too many times. That's what I get for being a bad kid, and doing drugs. God was punishing me.

Then, after two weeks with my sister, she told me she was moving to Spain. Next thing I know, she's out of the house, and I'm seeing her body in magazines. Oh well – that's life.

Mike interrupts my thoughts. "Jude, come on. Customers." I shake my head at his retreating figure and head out toward the bar, once again.

When I get there, I see a dark-haired man, dressed in a black button down shirt, and jeans. Looks...mid twenties. The things I notice first are his blue eyes. Beautiful, big, blue eyes. I smile at him. "Whatcha need?" He smirks. "Something strong, and a smoke." I smile. "Coming right up." He smiles curiously, and slightly squints his eyes as I retreat to the back. A few minutes later, I come back, with a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter. "Here." I say, handing him a drag and lighting the fire. When that's done and taken care of, I pull one out for myself, light the little bugger, and breathe in the addicting nicotine. I breathe out a breath of smoke, and set the stick down on a tray. I grab a large glass, and fill it up with several combinations of alcohol. I set it in front of him. He gives me a questioning look and I look at the gross, poop colored mixture. Oh! Right! Reaching underneath the counter, I pull out a colorful umbrella. Placing it in the glass causes a smirk from the man. "That makes it look better!" he comments sarcastically. "You said something strong. So, no complaints!" I say, taking in another breath of death. He shakes his head no, but drinks the contraption anyway. After taking a few swigs, he sets the cup down. He makes a face, closing his eyes tightly, as he downs the last of it. "You don't take 'strong' lightly, do you?" He questions, a smile playing at his lips. I shake my head no. "Tom. Tom Quincy." I smile and grab his hand. "Jude Harrison. Nice to meet you." He smiles and lets go of my hand.

About an hour later, I stand at the bar, clearing glasses from the counter. Most everyone had cleared out, except for Tommy. He stayed a while. Didn't drink much, so we had a pretty sober conversation, unlike others I've had. "When's your next break?" I dry my hands off on a rag, and look at him. "Why?" I ask, smiling. He smiles and looks away. "Just wondering..." He mumbles, before biting his lip and looking down. That was too cute! "Mike!" I call over. "Yeah?" he looks at me. "The place is dead, is it okay if I go?" He looks around the almost empty bar, and nods his head. I smile, grab my jacket, Tommy's hand, and we're out the door.

"So, Quincy, what did you have in mind?" I ask, once we get out the building. He smiles, and leans up against the wall of the brick building, and slides down it, sitting on the cool concrete. I walk over to him, and sit close to him. Lifting up my mid-section, I reach in my back pocket pulling out cigarettes and a lighter. "Hmm?" I ask, a cigarette in my mouth, waiting to be lit. Tommy reaches a hand out, and takes one. He grabs the lighter from me and lights my cig, then his. For the longest time, we just sit there, looking out into the passing cars, sucking in breaths, bringing us one step closer to death. But I'm okay with that. Not like I have anything to live for, except maybe Mike.

"Can I ask you something?" I look down at my lap, and tilt my head towards him. He looks at me and nods. "Why were you here? I mean 'something strong, and a smoke'...must have been bad..." He licks his lips, looks at a stopping cab, and let's out a breath. "Nothing really. I guess it's just stress. My sister got pregnant, and her boyfriend left. So I've been helping her. Damn. Pregnant women are impossible! Then there're my feuding parents. Been fighting for as long as I can remember!" He looks at me. I smile. "I'm sorry..." He let's out a small laugh. "It's cool. What about you? Any annoying siblings or evil parents?" My smile fades, and I look down. He touches my shoulder, causing me to look up. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't know...is everything...okay?" I smile. "Let's just say that my mom passed, my dad decided he didn't want us, and my sister moved to achieve her model career. It was a long time ago, no biggy now." I didn't even know I let one slip, but the next thing I know is Tommy's hand wiping away a stray tear. I let out a laugh. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to cry." God, I'm so pathetic! "It's okay. Come here." He holds out his arms, and I crawl into them. He holds me for a while, while I just sit there, letting tears fall.

"Tommy. Thank you for tonight. I had a wonderful time." He smiled. I set my hand on the door to my apartment. "You wanna...come in?" I ask, timidly. Gosh, I feel like a whore! But he is smiling! "Sure." I smile too, and grab his hand pulling him inside.

"You want anything to drink?" I ask, opening the fridge. "Sure, what do you have?" I smile, "What do you want?" He looks at me and smiles. "Okay." He nods his head challenging. "Manhattan – straight up. Extra whiskey." I smile. "Coming right up." I turn around, grab two glasses, and make the tonic concoction. A couple minutes later, I sit by Tommy on the couch, and hand him his drink. Looking at the TV, I see he's watching Gilmore Girls. "Gilmore Girls?" I squint my eyes. Is he okay? "It was on, leave me alone!" I smile at him and continue watching the Paris/Rory sex talk, with Lorelei standing at the door listening. Rory is a good kid. Great kid. I wish I could be like her. But instead, I'm sitting on a couch, with a guy I barely know, drinking an alcoholic beverage, my breath still tasting like cigarette smoke. I'm a drugee, alcoholic, AND a whore. Damn. I've never felt like such a bad ass... kinda feels good. I smile, and can see Tommy looking at me weirdly, but that doesn't stop my thoughts.

There are a lot of things that people don't know about me. I have three lip piercings – one on each side, and one in the middle – but I only wear one 'ring' at a time. I've also got 3 piercings on my left ear and 5 on my right. My bellybutton also has a ring attached, and I'm hoping to get one on my brow. The thing is, I don't wear them all at once. I can't stand to have them all at once! Oh, my nose! Did I mention that one? Probably not, I rarely wear that one. Allergies...they suck.

I've also got some tattoos. One on my lower back, and one on my right hipbone. I'm also hoping for one on the arch of my left foot. Heh. I'm really not as bad as I sound. I just have the look. But the inside, and the way I act...let's just say I most likely still have the little pink bunny my mom got me for my 1st birthday.

Ha. Did you know I stole something once? It was purely an accident. I was walking through my friends house, and her star ring just HAPPENED to fall into my sweatshirt pocket. Then she uh...she moved. I still have that ring. It's right here, set on my right middle finger.

"Jude? Did you hear me?" I look up at Tommy. He looks so cute when he's worried. Damn. I just met the guy! Keep that in your mind, Judith! "Uh, what? Sorry, I was thinking..." Tommy let out a small laugh. "I asked if you wanted to watch a movie." I smile. "Sure..." He smiles, and smirks, all in one. "Good, because I just put one in." He grabs a remote and presses play. Five minutes into the movie, and I'm already hugging Tommy, trying to rid my fears of saws, and chains. "You just had to pick the scariest movie, right?!" He smirked. "Of course. I had to get you to hug me some how, didn't I?" I look up at him, and he's smiling back at me. The next thing I know is my lips reaching up for his.

We sat there, making out for ten minutes, tops. When we broke apart, I was straddling him, his hands on my back. I looked down at Tommy, to see what he was thinking. Hoping to find some sort of sign as to what to do next. Before I could make anything out, his lips were back on mine. While we made out, I could feel him begin to stand up, so I wrapped my legs around his waist. He picked me up, and walked towards my bedroom.

Tommy laid me down on my bed, and began to crawl on top of me. A few seconds later, I slide his shirt over his head, as he does mine, breaking the kiss momentarily. He looked down at me, with a smile. "You sure?" I nod my head, and reconnect our lips. His hands make their way to my clasp, and take off my black bra. Sliding his hands down my side, he goes to my belt buckle. Oh God. Common sense...coming back...

I stop his hands and break our kiss. He looks down at me with questioning eyes. "I'm sorry." He smiles. "It's okay," he says, while nodding his head. I smile at him. After getting dressed again, we just lay on the bed, my back to his front side, his left arm wrapped around my body. We stay like that for what feels like ever.

"Tommy..." I whisper. Looking up, Tommy's eyes flash open, and look down at me. "Yeah?" I smile, and kiss him. "Do you really like me?" Tommy smiled too, and licked his lips. "Yeah, girl. I really do." Shaking my head, my smile getting bigger, I pull the covers over our heads, kiss him gently, and take off his shirt…

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**The end. :) Did you guys like it? I know it kind of leaves off at a weird place, but I had to set it up for a sequel. And if you read this before, you may have noticed I changed the ending. I also did this to set it up. But I hope you guys liked it! Let me know if you want the next part :)**


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